The Earl leant against the mantelpiece; the pale-pink silk he wore caught the light and glimmered, the brightest thing in the room.
Marius, sitting at his ease in one of the great leather chairs, studied my lord's face, and wondered at it for its attraction and charm. He had never thought about his brother's looks, though a certain magnificence of bearing about the Earl had always held him in awe; but to-night, as he gazed up at the proud expressive countenance of Rose, he was almost startled by the extreme handsomeness of the blunt-featured, composed, slightly defiant face with the nostrils a little distended, the lips firmly set, and the large eyes very brilliant under the long lashes.
They call him Beau Lyndwood, thought the young man with a slight sense of distaste. Contemplation of his brother's splendour gave him an alien feeling. He turned away his eyes and stared across to the dark expanse of the window.
My lord spoke.
"When do you think of going to London?"
"That is as you please, sir."
"I told Willouby you would be coming to take up your commission soon. You had better write to him."
"I will, to-night."
Rose Lyndwood smiled.
"And the lady?" he said sweetly.